InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The Eight-Fold Path ❯ Aftermath ( Chapter 16 )

Aftermath

  

 

Screaming, shouting, grunting, crackling, wailing -

 

-silence-

 

Firelight flickered off her wakizashi, and she pushed that thought into the back of her mind.

 

If she thought about it, she wouldn't be able to stand it - her family, her home… “up in smoke” as Kagome would say.

 

Sango brought the man to his knees with a well-placed strike; her training hadn't dulled, she'd realize later, because she'd severed the muscles in the back of his legs without looking.

 

It was hard to see through the tears streaming down her face.

 

Miroku, she'd learned later, managed to chase the last man away into the woods. At the moment, she only heard his receding cussing, his oaths to return to finish the job.

 

-drip, drip, drip-

 

Crimson tears followed the edge of her blade; salty tears carved paths down her cheeks. Her shoulders heaved - not with exertion, but sobs as horrifying silence -broken only by the snap of burning timber fell upon the clearing.

 

There were no more screams - no more signs of life from the wreckage that had been their home.

 

All the skills in the world… years of training on and off the battlefield, ages of learning traps and stalking, years of tracking the patter of tiny feet through the forest… could not have saved her youngest, trapped behind a wall of flame with nobody free to save him.

 

His screams would haunt her for years to come.

 

Shippou had been by the day before; they'd welcomed him despite the dangerous rumors flickering past their ears of vengeful men hunting youkai and those who called such creatures “friend.”

 

They'd defeated the likes of Naraku; what did they fear of men?

 

Weeks later, forcing herself to return and face the memories and reality of the deadly day, she would see signs of where the men had rested, watching… plotting their assault.

 

Shouting, raging, cursing -

 

He was gone.

 

Her child. The one son she'd borne Miroku; his pride and joy snuffed out in a tower of smoke.

 

InuYasha - the one creature that could have withstood the onslaught of men, weaponry and heat to save her son - had been gone a fortnight, Kagome and their infant traveling alongside to take Rin to Sesshoumaru's mother's castle.

 

The danger was too strong for the taiyoukai to ignore. He refused to let his ward remain in danger.

 

Where to now? They could not remain with Mushin forever. The man was a joy, but a drunkard. An old shrine was no place to raise children… was no place to bring the violence that would inevitably follow them.

 

They could not run; she wanted to refuse to hide. Sango dreamed of bringing the fight to them, of seeing them at her feet in supplication before she -

 

Screaming, crying, waking sobbing -

 

Her village was desolate, broken. What remained of the ruins was precarious at best - no place for children to run or roam or laugh…

 

Cascading, babbling, the crash of water on water -

 

She sought the river, newly afraid of silence. The waterfall served as a raging backdrop to her thoughts as she viciously attacked a stubborn stain.

 

There'd been no laughter.

 

The girls sobbed themselves to sleep and spent the days cleaning for Master Mushin.

 

Haruo spent his waking time with his staff, battling Kohaku with a fierceness a boy his age should not possess as Kirara watched on, unwilling to leave her humans behind to be hunted like rabbits.

 

Miroku remained locked away for hours in meditation. All the better for him; the last time they'd conversed, she'd nearly blackened his eye.

 

“Life means suffering.”

 

One of his “Four Noble Truths.” Sango sneered at the thought. It was a lesson - a truth - she did not need education in.

 

Crying, dripping, drops joining unsalty others, sobs muted by the roar of water -

 

She longed to hold him one more time…

 

She longed for him to hold her one more time…

 

Her family was fractured, broken…

 

And none of the skills she possessed were capable of bringing it back together again.

 

---

 

“The Eight-Fold Path” is a serialized fic, written based on prompts from the mirsan_fics community on LiveJournal.

“Aftermath” was originally posted January 2, 2009

Word Count: 670

Prompt: “Skill”